Sunday, September 20, 2020

Preserve Your Memories

Porto Ercole - End point for Bike Across Italy in 2005
 

Preserve Your Memories

by Gregory E. Larson

          Simon and Garfunkel's words from a song titled "Old Friends" rattles in my brain from time to time: . . . preserve your memories. They're all that's left you.          

          When I first listened to those words at the age of sixteen, they saddened me because I was full of youth and I didn’t want to hear about people that had grown old. Now my age puts me in that category, and those lyrics fill me with joy because I am full of memories. Yes, they are both sad and good memories, but I tend to lean toward the good ones, in part, just to keep my sanity.

          There’s the milestone memories – graduations, weddings, birthdays and holidays - happy squeals that filled the air on Christmas morning, or feeling the tears roll down the cheek when the sixteen-year-old child backs out of the driveway and begins their first trip of driving to school.

          What memories boil up when you let your mind wander? The ones that are most prominent to me are experiences – not so much the ones from a career or raising a family, but scenes from journeys and adventures. What wonderous times those were, with majestic landscapes and unusual destinations.

          I love to watch a mountain stream jump and fall as it makes its course over rocks and logs. To take a deep breath of mountain air on a cool, sunny morning is about as good as it gets, or to listen to the coyotes yip to each other at sunset so they can find their way and keep warm through the night. When I was younger, there was a satisfaction in backpacking with the minimal amount of gear to take me where most people couldn’t go. I remember all the bike tours across states and countries, of feeling the exhaustion and satisfaction from dipping the bike wheel into a river or an ocean, as a way to stamp the official completion of a tour.

          Part of my psyche hearkens back to Dad, who’s words I can still hear, “Nothing is worth doing, unless you do it well.” The deeper I explored his advice, I learned that experiences were best when I immersed myself in learning everything I could learn or when I trained as much as possible in both mind and body for an upcoming event or journey. It made for a rich experience, even when the outcome was not how I envisioned it. There were fleeting moments when I experienced the temporary nirvana of thinking I’d attained a level of competency, if only temporary, of the best of the best, of campers, hikers, bikers, writers, painters, and musicians.

          After embracing the wonderful memories, I have a deep sense of gratitude that I was able to experience so much in my life. Sure, there’s more to experience, but I am so grateful for my time on earth, grateful that my creator gave me the tools to see the wonders of the universe and to give me the opportunity to navigate life.

          Now that I’m older, I have just as much fun when swapping the tales and yarns of biking or camping adventures with those around me, sitting on the patio with a beer in hand, reliving the details and watching the story play out before my eyes. If I lean back and meditate, and let the beer do its magic, it’s as if I were there in the story, feeling, smelling, and hearing everything around me.

          Sometimes I think I should make a list of top ten physical places where I’ve stood in my life. It would be hard to pare down the list. I’d have thirty places, or more, that I thought should make the top ten. Maybe I need to go back to the Aolean Islands off the north shore of Sicily, rent a small adobe house on a hillside, sit on the veranda, look out over the Mediterranean Sea and make my lists with the reasons why they are worthy of making the cut. I’d have a big bottle of some Italian wine, some fresh mozzarella cheese, a loaf of bread, some olive oil and capers. It would be time to lean back and take a nap and to dream of all the places that have meant so much to me.

         I could do that for many days. Let’s see . . . there could be a list of the top ten adventures, the top ten eateries, the top ten . . . time to take another nap.

          Here are a few pictures from places that are high on the list of memories:

Rooftop Tour of Notre Dame, Paris - 2007

Moraine Lake - Canadian Rockies, Alberta, Canada 2011

Harbor in Tenby, Wales - 2008

Weminuche Wilderness - San Juan Mountains, Colorado - 2003

Lac d'Annecy, French Alps - 2018



Hilltop town in southern Sicily - 2012











 



1 comment:

  1. Hello Greg! I'm not sure why, but your statement about memories,"I tend to lean toward the good ones" make me think of the line in Simon and Garfunkel's song , The Boxer. "I am leaving, but the fighter still remains". Even though old memories can make us sad, we need to realize that they make us sad because we now relize how valuable those moments were.
    Keep up the great work.

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